


Ferreting a Wolf

by Slytherkins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AO3 FB Challenge, AO3 Writers FB Group, Blackmail, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Draco's Third Year, I'm Going to Hell, Implied Consensual Underage Sex, Implied Snupin, It's not what you think, JULY ROULETTE CHALLENGE, M/M, Non-Consensual, Prejudice is a Bitch, Prisoner of Azkaban Timeline, REMUS NEEDS FOR SEVERUS TO PET HIM NOW, Remus Lupin puts up with way too much, Sexual Coercion, Teacher/Student, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Underage - Freeform, WHY AM I ALWAYS SO MEAN TO REMUS?, You've been warned, it's only wrong if you diddle to it, loose lips sink ships, might as well go big or go home, read the damn tags, we're going to hell in a handbasket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 17:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15224447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherkins/pseuds/Slytherkins
Summary: Remus confronts Severus about his unapproved deviation from Remus' lesson plan, but he should have picked a better venue. Draco overhears and decides to pay the DADA professor a visit to 'make an arrangement' in exchange for the young man's silence.





	Ferreting a Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rodents Always Lie (In The Dark)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139874) by [EspadaIV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspadaIV/pseuds/EspadaIV). 



> Sooo...
> 
> Our FB group issued a roulette challenge, and my prompt was:  
> Fandom: Old Fandom  
> Pairing: Rare Pairing  
> Setting: Your Choice
> 
> And my friend EspadaIV's prompt was:  
> Fandom: Old Fandom  
> Pairing: Your Choice  
> Setting: Canon Compliant
> 
> And I was all like DUDE, WE SHOULD WRITE COMPANION FICS. So that's what we did. We picked a scenario and did a little RP and then used it to create dueling PoV fics. 
> 
> There is far more wrongness here than I anticipated when we began this experiment. BUT I NEVER BACK DOWN FROM A CHALLENGE. I felt like this fic was bad touching me for the entire last 1/3 of it. But I think I prevailed. I THINK I MADE THIS FIC MY BITCH.

_Why, Sev?_

Their conversation would not stop playing in Remus’ head. The Potions Professor had been avoiding him since the start of term, and Remus had tried to respect his boundaries, but that was before Severus had substituted for the werewolf the day after the Full. Remus hated that the encounter had occurred unexpectedly in the halls, but Severus had not given him any other opportunity to discuss the matter.

_You know how hard it is for me to find work. I’m practically destitute. This is the warmest I’ve been and the best I’ve eaten in years._

Remus hated it. He hated sounding so helpless and pathetic. He hated _being_ so helpless. The weariness of it ran bone-deep, punctuated by the lingering pain in his joints from his recent transformation.

_Why are you trying to out me? And don’t give me a load of rubbish about protecting the children, because you know - you know - I’m not a danger to them._

Severus himself brewed Remus’ Wolfsbane Potion. Except for some roughhousing with Padfoot and Prongs, Remus had never actually harmed another person while in wolf form. Though, admittedly, there had been a few close calls.

“I could have been killed if James hadn’t stopped me!” Severus had not-so-kindly reminded him tonight. “Black made me believe you were in danger. I crawled through that fucking tunnel to see that you were alright. But you weren’t alright, Remus. You were a fucking _were-_ ”

“Shh! _Severus_.” After curfew or not, that was not a word Remus wanted to be shouted anywhere not private and preferably soundproofed.

“Well, excuse me,” Severus sneered, nonetheless lowering his voice, “but that’s something you might have mentioned _before_ we started snogging. Two years, Remus. You’d think it would have come up!”

But then, it had. They had simply avoided it. Remus had actually thought it a miracle that Severus had never remarked on his absences from class or his state in the days following. Though, neither of them had been able to steal away very often. It was convenient to pretend Remus had merely been indisposed, that he hadn’t been able to sneak out without arousing the suspicion of his roommates. The phase of the moon was never mentioned.

Besides, questioning it might have led to honest answers, and it had been hard enough for the two of them to find one another in the first place. A British boarding school in the late sixties was not a safe place to be anything other than straight; especially if one wasn’t affluent, which neither of them had been. It was easier to embrace the lie.

“Severus, I understand you felt betrayed. I just…I was afraid you’d leave me if I told you.”

“Imagine that.”

“Severus, _please_.” He had resorted to begging. Again. No matter how often the need arose, it never failed to chafe. “I need this job. If the Board of Governors finds out, I’ll be removed. I can’t afford to be removed. Besides, there’s Harry…”

“Oh, yes. James Jr. Spitting image, wouldn't you agree? You think you’re getting a second chance at your true love, is that it?”

Remus winced. “Severus, don’t be crude,” he sighed. “He’s fourteen, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Wasn’t James fourteen when you sucked his cock?”

Now the man was just being obstinate. A part of Remus wished he’d never confessed that incident to Severus.

Sirius had liberated a bottle of firewhisky from his parents’ liquor cabinet one Christmas and smuggled it into Hogwarts. When combined with the naughty magazine Peter had surreptitiously procured from his older cousin while on holiday, the result had been truly mortifying for all of them.

Of course, that had also occurred before Remus and Severus had officially become a couple. Remus’ sobbing admission after James had gently rejected him the next morning had been the very thing that had drawn the two of them together. Severus had had his own unrequited love at the time in the form of Lucius Malfoy. And Remus would never have accused Severus of lusting after Draco.

“You were fourteen the first time I sucked yours, too,” Remus reminded Severus, no longer feeling so apologetic. “That’s beside the point,” he hissed. “I was fourteen, as well. _Gods_. I’m gay, Severus, I’m not a paedophile. You’re gay, too, in case you’ve forgotten!”

“But _I’m_ not a werewolf. Everyone knows what depravity such creatures are capable of.”

“Severus,” said Remus with a sad shake of his head. “You, of all people? You would voice such a dirty stereotype?”

Severus’ arms remained stubbornly locked across his chest, but he did flinch at the pain in Remus’ expression.

“You know me,” Remus pressed, hoping to remind the man of the tenderness they’d once felt for one another. It had been so long ago, but he suspected neither of them had known much from anyone else since.

“I thought I did,” was Severus’ cold reply. “Obviously, I was mistaken.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Truly.”

Remus knew Severus. He cared for Severus despite the distance between them now. He saw the battered little boy hiding behind those hard eyes. He understood the battle-bruised man beneath this sneering mask.

“Severus, I’m begging you. If you ever felt anything like true affection for me, just stop. Please don’t ruin this opportunity for me. I get so few.”

Finally, Severus softened. Remus would not describe the look in his eye as fond, but it was decidedly less hostile.

“Fine. Though, if one of the students figure it out, that’s beyond my control. That brown-nosing Granger brat probably knows already.”

Remus’ jaw tightened. Hermione very likely wouldn’t have worked it out if not for Severus’ improvisational teaching, but Remus didn’t dare point that out. No, Remus had thanked him. _Thanked_ him for not endangering his livelihood any further than he’d done so already. It galled. The fact that he couldn’t hate the bastard galled even more. That he actually missed the arsehole and wished he could speak with him about something other than Remus’ potential termination was absolutely infuriating.

Remus paced his office, his mind going to the bottle of firewhisky hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk. It had proved a comfort on many an otherwise comfortless night, but he was a professor now and trying to break himself of the habit.

He had just about decided to leave off self-discipline for some other night, though, when he heard the click of his office door being opened and turned to find Draco Malfoy letting himself inside. Remus glanced to the cracked but functional clock face ticking away on the mantle and then back to his uninvited guest. He wasn’t in the mood for mentoring. Why in blazes was this boy suddenly standing in his office at 10:30 in the bloody evening?

“I didn't hear a knock,” said Remus, his tone even but meaningful. “Can I help you, Draco?”

“I didn’t think students needed to knock when they required help from an authority figure.”

How disingenuous. The smug expression on the blond boy’s face seemed to show he was well aware of how blatant it was, too.

“Is there some sort of emergency?” Remus asked him apprehensively. He smelled rubbish, but if the boy truly was in need and Remus turned him away...

“Well, I don’t know if it’s an emergency, per se, but there’s something I believe you might help me with. See, I’m not sure who else I can go to about this little problem I have,” Draco simpered. Remus blasted out an exasperated sigh. He doubted Draco had ever really considered that the rules might apply to him, but the brat had been absolutely insufferable since the incident with the hippogriff.

“In that case, yes, a knock is simple courtesy,” Remus told him, already mentally dismissing the boy to contemplate his waiting firewhisky. “I apologize, Draco. I don't mean to be rude, but this isn't the best of times. Since it isn't an emergency, why don't you go ask Sev-”

A slip. And he hadn’t even started drinking yet. The man weighed too heavily on Remus’ mind, and he wasn’t yet used to thinking of him as a professor. To Remus, he was still just Sev.

“I mean, why don’t you ask your Head of House,” Remus suggested. “Or anyone else,” he added, trying to show Draco to the door. Though Remus conveniently opened it for him, Draco declined to pass through it.

“Because,” the young man explained, affecting bashfulness, “it involves my Head of House.”

Remus stared at Draco blankly for a moment before dragging a hand down his face, reaching for patience he’d already spent. The boy seemed determined to play out this charade. The sooner Remus got to the bottom of it, the sooner he could be rid of him. With obvious reluctance, Remus closed his office door and gestured to the lone piece of furniture in his office designated for guests.

“Would you care to take a seat, Draco?” he said, not waiting for an answer before striding over to lean against his desk directly in front of the offered chair and crossing his arms expectantly. Draco sauntered over but gave the rickety thing a disdainful look. He placed his hands flat on the desk beside Remus instead and leaned in close as if to impart something confidential.

“Let's say I know something about someone,” he began carefully. “It would be an issue for them, should others find out. How might I go about bringing it up to that person?”

“You...need to broach a delicate subject with Professor Snape?” Remus asked, just as carefully.

“Well, yes. I’m not sure how to tell him that I admire him and that, as a perfect example of how purebloods should act, he really shouldn’t be seen mingling with those of... _lesser_ status.” The little bastard smirked then, and Remus had rarely been so tempted to lay hands on a child. “It's been conflicting,” Draco pouted.

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. He could think of no explanation besides that Draco was intentionally attempting to provoke him. And Remus had been provoked before the boy had even arrived.

“Draco, this really doesn't seem that pressing to me,” he muttered, “and I'm not sure why you think I, of all people, can help you with your...” Remus only just caught himself before he said ‘crush’. “With your dilemma,” he corrected himself, considering his words more carefully. Though, in doing so, Remus considered Draco’s, as well; and a cold suspicion slowly began to displace his irritation.

“Besides,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the boy, “I'm sure you know quite well that I don't subscribe to pureblood ideology.”

The twist of Draco’s lip deepened, and Remus’ suspicion turned to proper dread.

“Why are you really here, Draco?” he asked, no longer even pretending to be accommodating.

“Oh, I think the situation is _very_ pressing,” Draco argued with a shrug. “For you,” he added, locking eyes with the man. “See, I ran across an interesting scene on my way back to the dorms earlier,” he confided, “involving Professor Snape...and you. Which is why I'm here.”

Remus tried not to let the boy see his sudden fear, but he couldn’t help pulling his eyes away from Draco’s haughty sneer. Remus gave a mirthless chuckle at his own stupidity. He had known he shouldn’t have spoken to Severus out in the corridor. The worst part was knowing that Draco had heard him literally begging Severus not to give him away. Hell, that might have even been what inspired Draco to venture this visit in the first place.

Remus took a deep breath, trying to wrestle his panic under control. “What do you want, Draco?” he asked, still not looking at the boy, his voice tight.

“I want what every normal teenage boy would want, Professor,” Draco shrugged. “I want to win the Quidditch Cup. I want money, power. Potter to bugger off,” he added with a small chuckle. “I want to fuck off in your class…”

“Funny,” said Remus, shooting the boy an uncharitable look, “I thought you did that already.”

“Yes, but this time will be different. See, you're going to give me excellent marks. Higher than Granger's,” Draco predicted confidently. His smirk widened as he leaned closer to the man, and Remus had to fight the urge to shrink away from him. “And I'm going to continue to fuck off,” he informed Remus. Draco made no move to withdraw, and so Remus stepped away from him, shuffling dazedly around his desk to collapse into the chair behind it. He lay his head in his hand, examining his options and finding he had none.

“And if I refuse?” he asked, though his tone was devoid of defiance.

“Then I’m sure that my father would love to talk to the Headmaster about his choice of teaching candidates.”

The two considered one another shrewdly. Remus was cornered, and they both knew it. Though, things could be worse, Remus reflected. A high grade was a reasonably pedestrian - and a predictably adolescent - request. Remus was already making peace with it.

“You want me to believe that you'll keep...this _information_...entirely to yourself,” he confirmed, “so long as I give you good marks?”

“Why wouldn't I?” Draco asked in mock offense. “Do you honestly think I wouldn't keep my word?”

“Well, the fact that you're blackmailing me doesn't really inspire trust, no,” Remus admitted ruefully. “I'd just like to be clear on the parameters of our...arrangement.”

“Parameters of our arrangement? You make this seem a lot naughtier than it is, Professor,” said Draco with a coquettish laugh. “I mean it's not like I'm asking you for snogs or meetings in a broom closet, if that's what you're implying,” he said, knowing perfectly well that Remus was not. The young man seemed less than averse to the idea, however, as he strolled around Remus’ desk and took a seat on it, close enough for his knee to brush Remus’ arm. Remus stiffened and leaned away from him, appraising the boy leerily.

“I'm sure _Potter_ would get jealous if it came to that,” said Draco, echoing Severus’ accusations.

“You couldn’t possibly believe that Harry and I are actually involved in any indiscretion,” Remus sneered.

“You seem to have an eye for him,” Draco needled. “But I’m sure that lusting for teenage boys isn’t the most embarrassing thing about you, considering you’re a werewolf,” he said with a condescending chuckle. As if Remus’ condition was something so shameful. As if the infection in Remus’ blood was some kind of perversion of character. He knew the fact that he was gay only reinforced his perceived deviance, and Remus was veritably ill with resentment.

“I am not interested in teenage boys, Draco, and I know you know it,” said Remus. The warning in his tone was intentional. “That threat has no teeth, so you can drop it. In fact, if you've no further demands, you're welcome to leave.” Remus made to stand, but Draco’s coy expression dissolved into a petulant scowl. He caught Remus as he started to rise and pushed him back to a seat.

“I know no such thing,” Draco hissed, his hands still pressing down on Remus’ shoulders. His narrowed eyes pierced Remus’ wide ones. “Speaking of teeth,” said Draco, his voice as dangerous as Remus’ had been a moment ago, “are you a _big bad_ wolf? Going around biting unsuspecting children?” The boy’s audacity left Remus momentarily speechless. When he recovered himself, he glared down at the hands that restrained him, then up at the young man they belonged to.

“Careful, Draco. There are limits to what I'll endure.”

“You’re going to do whatever I want,” Draco informed him, sounding like an infinitely more sinister Veruca Salt, “because if you don’t, I’ll tell _everyone_ what I’ve heard.”

Remus’ frustration tipped over into proper rage; but no matter how hotly Remus seethed, he knew he was powerless. It would be one thing for Draco to snitch to his father and have Remus fired. It would be another entirely if he loosed the rumour to the student body. Instead of being quietly removed from his post, Remus would be taunted and harassed, subject to untold abuse at the hands of the older children before the whispers even reached their parents and then the Board of Governors. He’d be hounded out of Hogwarts.

Worse, he would still be present when the news reached Harry. That shining look of trust and respect Remus had already grown to covet would be replaced with one of betrayal and disgust, just as it had in Severus when he discovered Remus’ secret all those years ago. Remus wasn’t sure he was strong enough to face such a thing again.   

Draco seemed to delight in Remus’ impotent fury. “So,” he sneered, “tell me more about these desires you have for young men.”

A litany of curses begged to spring from Remus’ tongue, and so he bit it to subdue them. Draco chuckled.

“C’mon, Lupin. I heard the conversation you had with Professor Snape,” he taunted.  

“In that case, you would know I don’t have a thing for boys,” Remus stressed. It was difficult to speak through clenched teeth. “I just once had one for Professor Snape. That’s over now, obviously.”

“But you _had_ a thing for boys. Or is it just a thing for Potter, now?”

“I had a thing for boys _when I was a boy._ ” It was almost grotesque the way Draco enjoyed Remus’ struggle against his temper. “Yes, I’m gay. That is not a crime. I am a man attracted to men. When I was a boy, I was attracted to other boys _my age_. Why are you so intent on forcing this narrative?” he snapped. “Unless,” Remus insinuated, trying to give the little shit a taste of his own medicine, “ _marks_ aren’t the only thing you’re after.” He smirked knowingly at the boy, but Draco called his bluff.

“But wouldn’t your precious Boy Who Lived get jealous?” he gasped, almost cartoonishly scandalized. “I wouldn’t want to take your attention away from him.” The hands that had stubbornly rested on Remus’ shoulders slowly slid their way down Remus’ chest, and the man was certain Draco could feel the pounding of Remus’ heart beneath his palm. Remus threw Draco a bewildered scowl, but the boy was unfazed.

“Of course, no one would have to know,” Draco whispered. His look was unambiguous and entirely inappropriate. Remus didn’t try to hide his alarm. This was no longer what he thought it was. Before, Draco’s discovery had represented an inconvenience. This…

This was dangerous.

Remus held himself very still, hyperconscious of where his hands were situated on the arms of his desk chair. He chose his words with care.

“Draco. I understand that you possess easily confirmed and very damning information about me. And though it offends my conscience, I would agree to give you high marks in my class on the condition that you kept the truth about my lycanthropy to yourself. But…” Remus cast a wary look to the hands spreads across his chest. “...I’m not sure I understand what is happening now.”

“Some would call it foreplay,” Draco replied. There was challenge in his voice but not mockery. Remus cautiously took Draco by the wrists, careful not to touch him in any other way, and peeled his palms from Remus’ chest.

“Okay. Look. This is just a job,” he shrugged. “I’ve lost jobs for being a werewolf before. I’m sure I’ll lose another in future. But this...” he said, releasing the boy and holding his hands up as if to tell him to stay. “Quite besides the fact that I’m not attracted to adolescent boys, this could land me in Azkaban.” He gave Draco a meaningful look, but the boy showed no signs of moving. “I think you should go now, Draco,” Remus elaborated.

Rather than leave, Draco slipped from the edge of the desk and into Remus’ lap, draping his arms around his neck, and Remus was almost certain he was about to have a heart attack.

“C’mon, you’re not going to back down that easy, are you?” Draco whined. “You know, if I tell my father you’re a werewolf, then you’ll get fired, and where would poor Potter be without you?”

Remus panicked, giving the boy no warning before standing abruptly, sending Draco unceremoniously to the floor.

“Harry’s survived this long without me,” Remus said in a rush, stepping over the young man sprawled at his feet. “I’m certain he’ll continue to do so.” Remus strode urgently to the door and opened it, pointing to punctuate the request that Draco leave. Immediately. “I do believe I need to start packing,” Remus prompted when the boy did not move, “so if you don’t mind.”

Draco glared at him as he crawled to his feet. “You’re just a bloody coward,” he muttered, dusting off his robes in a huff. “A cowardly werewolf!” Draco stormed over to the door. “My father will hear about this,” he vowed. Remus simply nodded. He’d already concluded as much, hence the packing.

Draco hesitated to pass through the door. By the scowl scrunching his face, Remus could tell he disliked not getting his way and was trying to work out some scheme to force his will. But Remus was done. Draco’s ammunition was spent. He knew Remus was a werewolf. He would tell Lucius who would soon see that Remus was removed from the teaching staff. As soon as Draco left, Remus would be paying a visit to Dumbledore to save everyone the trouble; and in the morning, Remus would again begin the familiar and seemingly eternal quest for employment. He would carry on as he always had.

“I’ll tell him,” Draco repeated, veritably shaking at this point. Remus sighed, but Draco wasn’t finished. He tossed a glare at the werewolf, all coyness gone. “If you don’t do what I want, I’ll just tell them you did it anyway.”

Remus froze, the momentary relief he’d felt at having accepted his fate evaporated. He stared at Draco long and hard to gauge his seriousness. The boy was not bluffing.

“Are you saying,” he asked, ice pumping through his veins, “that if I don’t want to go to Azkaban for molesting a student in my charge...then I’ll have to molest a student in my charge?”

Draco’s determined expression never faltered. “Show me,” he demanded. “Show me what you do with Potter, or I’ll tell _him_ that you did it, too.”

Something inside Remus snapped, and he seized Draco by the front of his robes. Self-control kicked in marginally after that, and rather than slamming the young man against the nearest wall, Remus merely escorted him there firmly. Draco barely flinched.

“I. Don’t. Do. _Anything_ with Harry,” Remus growled. “Which is what I keep trying to tell you. Whatever you’re after, I have a feeling it’s more than just some chocolate and a few stories about my old schoolmates. I can’t help it that you have some fantasy of Harry and me together.”

“I don't have fantasies about Potter,” the young man sneered. “That would be disgusting. In that case, show me what you did with Snape!”

Remus was surprised enough that Draco’s robes fell from his fist.

“Why would he touch you if you’re a werewolf?” Draco spat. “He’s a pureblood!”

Remus shook his head at the boy and took a shuffling step back. The edges of that wound were still tender, having been so recently reopened. “Because he didn’t know,” said Remus. “And not to shatter your perfect image of your Head of House, but Severus isn’t a pureblood.” Remus watched as shock hit the young man, but it proved no match for his denial. Whatever was left only fueled Draco’s venom.

“You’re lying because he rejected you! How dare you spit slander about Snape! You’re a lying, cowardly, half-blooded pervert,” he shouted, but his conviction was shaken, and his disgust for Remus was reinforced. The werewolf rolled his eyes at Draco’s desperation. Remus thought the boy might finally just leave now. His revulsion surely wouldn’t allow for the flirtations of earlier.

“Believe what you want, Draco. I can’t alter reality to suit your prejudice. Are we done here?” he asked, gesturing again to the door.

“No, we are not done here,” Draco hissed, his hands finding the front of Remus’ cardigan despite his obvious aversion. “You’ve not shown me anything.” Remus shook his head, uncomprehending, as Draco popped one of the buttons on his sweater. “Take this off,” Draco said firmly, “and show me. I want to know how Professor Snape likes to be touched.”

Everything clicked into place then. Draco wanted to believe Remus and Harry engaged in these kinds of activities because he wanted to believe he might do the same with Severus. Draco thought Remus, having been with Severus before, could show him how the man should be treated. Both were key to the young man’s desperate hope. And both were conveniently fulfilled in one easily extorted werewolf.

“So that’s your game?” If the little shit wasn’t currently holding his feet to the flames, Remus might even have pitied him. “If you admire Severus as much as you claim to, Draco, you surely know he would never touch one of his students.”

This was not a new anxiety for Draco, Remus could tell. But it had apparently not deterred him thus far, and it would not do so now.

“You will do as I say,” Draco said, reaching for the cool condescension his father had long ago mastered. He ran a hand through his already tidy hair and straightened his robes, perfecting his unruffled demeanor before giving Remus an imperious look. “If you don’t, I’ll reveal to Potter that you’re a werewolf. I’ll tell my father. I’ll even accuse you of other wrong-doings. I’ll tell the authorities how you abused me and then threatened to infect me if I told anyone. Do you want to go to Azkaban?” Draco sneered. “I could put you there.”

Remus didn’t doubt for a moment that Draco would do everything he’d just threatened, and suddenly, Azkaban was the least of Remus’ worries.

The intentional infection of another was technically a kissable offence. It wasn’t often handed down, but judging by how he’d handled the incident with Buckbeak, Remus felt confident Lucius would ensure that this case was used to set an example. Attempting to bite an uninfected Wizard - a pureblood - and one as powerful as the Malfoy family heir would damn Remus in an instant. Absolutely no one would care to hear his side of things.

Remus wondered if Draco even realized how serious the consequences of such an accusation could be. One look at his jeering expression, however, told Remus that Draco wouldn’t care. This boy didn’t even consider him as human. Not really. Not a human of consequence. It might be better if he didn’t understand just how much power he really held over the man.

Remus dropped his eyes to the floor. His hands trembled as he worked open the last few buttons of his cardigan and shrugged it off to toss it aside. Remus felt his face burn red at the indignity of being subject to the petulant whims of a spoiled, miniature aristocrat. He had never been able to afford an excess of pride, but Remus coveted the small portion he’d managed to retain. He swallowed it now. He was not yet broken, but he was dangerously close to it

“Now, off with the boring shirt,” Draco commanded him, smirking at Remus’ compliance. He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at the man. “Then you’re to show me.”

Remus’ fingers were stiff as they opened his shirt as if they retained a lingering trace of the defiance the man himself had recently relinquished. “Show you what...exactly?” Remus clarified, careful to keep any hint of challenge from his voice as he peeled off his shirt. He wasn’t trying to be difficult, he just wanted to be sure the boy would be placated, at least until Remus could think of some way out of this mess.

The blush that warmed his face extended down Remus’ neck in response to the way Draco appraised his bare torso. It was a cold but approving examination, as if the boy were choosing a new piece of furniture. Or picking a cut of meat.

“You’re an idiot,” Draco sneered, still examining Remus’ nakedness. “Did you forget already? Show me what you did with Professor Snape or what you do with Potter.”

The boy still rejected reality, still apparently needed to believe that Remus and Harry were involved in some inappropriate way. Remus had to bite his tongue until the urge to shout at him had passed.

“You realize Severus and I dated well over a decade ago,” Remus ventured. “We were fourteen. It wasn’t very extensive,” he lied. They may have started dating at fourteen, but Severus did not discover his secret for almost two years, and though their meetings had been sporadic, they were thorough. It did not hurt, however, to try and lower Draco’s expectations. “I’m certain he’s moved on since from just snogging and blushing while holding hands.”

“I’m sure,” Draco responded, almost bored, his gaze glued to the scars scattered across Remus’ chest. “You two were talking about sucking cock earlier. Do it,” he said, lifting his eyes to Remus’ again finally to punctuate his command.

Remus felt as if the floor had fallen out from under him. His eyes fell closed as he reeled. The boy couldn’t understand what he was requesting.

Remus’ thoughts were frantic, trying to work out the least of evils, the most acceptable of all the possible, terrible consequences. He found he could accept imprisonment. But he could also imagine the fallout of a public trial, the scrutiny and persecution the werewolf community would endure as a result. None of them existed as individuals. Each represented their entire race, no matter how unfair that burden.

This was about more than just Remus.

Still, how could he possibly go through with this?

“Draco, is there no other way we could come to an arrangement?”

When Draco didn’t respond except to scowl at him, Remus took a shuddering breath and reached over to lock the door to his office. His racing mind began shutting down. All his thoughts transformed into formless horror. He felt leaden and numb as he shuffled back over to the boy and sank to his knees.

Draco was so...small. Not a child but certainly not an adult. And Remus could tell by the clumsiness of his seduction before and the tone of his voice when requesting Remus’ ‘tutelage’ that he had little to no experience in these matters. All Draco had was a crush, an inflated sense of entitlement...and leverage. Coerced or not, Remus felt certain he was going to hell for this.

Draco became impatient when Remus made no move to carry the encounter further. “Do I have to do everything?” he sighed, reaching to unzip his trousers.  

Remus refused to look at the thing he was meant to manipulate. He thought of dementors. It felt as if one was in the room with them now. He felt he’d already been kissed.

This would end, though. Eventually. This, he could recover from. Eventually. The alternative was Azkaban. Or worse. Though, at the moment, it was hard to comprehend that there was anything worse than this.

The soulless shell that had been Remus reached up to wrap its fingers around the half-hard length of adolescence only inches from its face. It closed its eyes and opened its mouth. It barely registered the small, surprised cry Draco uttered or the curses that followed. It did what it had been commanded to do.

Harder to ignore were the thin, clawed fingers that seized him by the hair and scored his scalp. Sickness was already close, and the violence with which the thing in his mouth ground into the soft tissue at the back of it threatened to make Remus actually vomit. Draco wasn’t long enough to literally choke him, though that fact made Remus’ stomach roil even more.

Blessedly, it didn’t last long. After only a few minutes, Remus’ mouth was flooded with thick, bitter warmth. He wanted to deposit it on the floor, along with the undigested remains of his dinner, but the hands in his hair did not allow for it. To avoid drowning, Remus was forced to swallow it. But even having done so, it seemed a short eternity before Draco finally released him. They both gasped as Remus tumbled back away from him.

The fever that scorched Remus’ skin was cooled by the wetness that covered his face: The sweat on his brow, the tears on his cheeks, the smear of cum from the corner of his mouth dripping slowly down his chin. Remus slumped forward and bowed his head, silently adding a steady stream of fresh tears to the salty mess.

Draco seemed at a loss for words. Not that Remus could meet his eye. It was a small favor, though, not to have to process conversation as the young man situated himself. Remus heard the door open, and he willed the boy to be gone, but Draco tarried.

“See you at breakfast, Professor.”

Remus raised a horrified look to the boy, wincing at his sneer. It hadn’t yet occurred to him that this wasn’t the end, that he would have to see Draco again. Everyday. The young man didn’t comment on Remus’ despair, though he seemed to enjoy it.

And then, he was finally gone. Remus staggered to his feet and over to his desk where he tore open his bottom desk drawer to liberate his half-empty bottle of firewhisky. He tipped it to his lips before even collapsing into his chair, desperate to rinse the taste of Draco Malfoy from his tongue and the memory of what had just happened from his mind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please pet me.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rodents Always Lie (In The Dark)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139874) by [EspadaIV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspadaIV/pseuds/EspadaIV)




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